


Appetite

by crammit



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Food Play, Kitchen Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:38:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crammit/pseuds/crammit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another weekend away finds Brittany’s plans to help Santana with the dishes derailed as Santana comes up with another way for Brittany to thank her for dinner. – Rated M for smut and language</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appetite

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Glee and its characters do not belong to me. I'm only borrowing them. But I promise to put them right back where I found them.
> 
> A/N: From my previous author's note in "Meet in the Middle": Assumes Dantana never happened. Not because I don't like Demi Lovato, because I do (though, as a Brittana lover – Brittana OTP ride-or-die, I give no fucks when it comes to Dantana). But because I don't have the energy in my brain to write about the emotions involved with Brittana as it might relate to the revelation of Dantana and the ramifications of that. Welcome to the world of AU – where everything is made up and nothing hurts.
> 
> A/N: One of my guest reviewers on “Meet in the Middle” (Thanks, A!) kind of gave me the idea to write a series of one-shots based on weekend meet-ups between Santana and Brittany that could take place during S5. It seemed like a fun idea so we’ll see where it goes. You don’t have to read my other story “Meet in the Middle” before reading this story to know what’s going on, though I’d never tell anyone NOT to read my stories. *lol* These one-shots will be loosely tied together so each one can stand on its own.
> 
> A/N: As always, thanks very much for reading. Reviews are always appreciated. :-)

As Santana steps into the eat-in kitchen, sweeping gracefully around countertops and chairs in a flourish of freshly-showered scent and jogging pants, she hopes that Brittany’s run to the local market earlier will yield enough that she can put something together for dinner.  Even sending her with a list, Santana knows that Brittany can sometimes get distracted when she shops.  Laughing softly, Santana remembers more than a few occasions where she was forced to be creative in coming up with something for them to eat.

Shrugging her shoulders to adjust the sleeves of the white vee-neck t-shirt that is clinging to her slightly damp skin, Santana arrives in front of the fridge, opening the door and taking a small step back to survey the possibilities.  Feeling the cool air rush across her body, she takes another step back, stepping directly into the fading sunlight filtering in through the cabin window.  She reaches one hand back to drum her fingers on the countertop, leaving the other to play with the loose drawstrings of her jogging pants.  Crossing one foot over the other and resting her weight on the opposite hip, Santana looks at the contents of the fridge with the ferocity of a general surveying the battlefield.

It is this vision that greets Brittany as she approaches quietly from around the corner.  Stopping before she comes into Santana’s line of sight, Brittany allows her eyes the pleasure of simply looking at Santana.  The glow of the sunset behind her, illuminating her hair and getting trapped in the dark curls still damp from her shower.  The muscles of her forearm flexing as Santana tap-tap-taps along the countertop, that vision alone sending a brief spasm through Brittany’s lower belly as memories of where those fingers have been flashes hot and fierce through her mind.  Continuing to track her gaze over Santana’s body, swallowing hard as she realizes that Santana is not wearing a bra, Brittany smiles as she catches a small glimpse of tan skin peeking out from where Santana’s jogging pants have slipped down a bit, her absentminded tugging working in Brittany’s favor.  Eyes sliding over legs unfairly hidden in those same jogging pants, Brittany’s smile grows wider, taking in the arch of Santana’s foot as it sits crossed in front of the other, small calluses from being on her feet all day at the diner barely visible at her heel.  Brittany finally continues into the kitchen, a sigh of complete happiness escaping through her lips as she slips her winter jacket off and drapes it over one of the chairs in the kitchen.

“Whatever the refrigerator did to you, I’m sure it didn’t mean it, San,” Brittany teases as she makes her way to Santana’s side.

Never taking her eyes from the fridge, Santana slowly raises the hand that has been playing with the drawstrings and curves her delicate fingers until the middle finger is prominently displayed.  Taking satisfaction from the playful gasp that Brittany emits, Santana looks over at her, her eyes crinkling at the edges as her lips curve into a smile a mere second before she sticks her tongue out at Brittany.

“Very funny, Britt.  Then how about you make dinner tonight?” Santana asks playfully, knowing full well the response before Brittany can answer.

Shaking her head, Brittany pads further into the kitchen, coming to stand in front of Santana and taking ownership of the drawstrings that Santana was playing with just a few seconds earlier.  Tugging a bit, Brittany leans forward and places a tender kiss on Santana’s soft lips, holding the contact for moment before pulling back and catching Santana’s gaze, “Now why would you want me to do that to us?”

Uncrossing her feet and stepping closer to Brittany, Santana barely holds in a sigh as she feels the warmth under Brittany’s thermal shirt come into contact with her shoulders as Brittany crosses her hands behind Santana’s neck.  Bringing her fingers to the bottom of Brittany’s shirt, Santana lifts it up slightly so she can run her cooler fingertips against Brittany’s warm skin, smiling as she feels the muscles tensing beneath her touch, “How are you so warm when you just came in from outside?”

Shuffling closer to Santana, Brittany slides her hands over Santana’s shoulders, pulling her against her body to stop the path of those cool fingertips across her stomach.  Trapping Santana’s hands between them, she kisses the tip of Santana’s nose, grimacing slightly as Santana slides her hands around Brittany’s waist to rest against her lower back, “How are your hands so cold when you just got out of a hot shower?”

Kissing Brittany’s cheek, Santana pulls her closer in an embrace, sighing happily at the smell of firewood mixing with the fading smell of Brittany’s perfume.  Letting Brittany’s weight keep her pressed lightly against the countertop, Santana rests her chin on Brittany’s shoulder, scanning over the items in the fridge even as she answers Brittany, “Fair point.  Good thing you’re back now to warm me up.”

Hugging Santana even closer, Brittany takes a moment to enjoy the feeling of holding her like this, the clean smell of her shower still clinging to Santana’s skin.  Reaching up, Brittany gathers Santana’s hair in one hand, pulling it away so she can press her lips to the side of Santana’s neck.  Brittany sucks lightly, frowning a bit as she doesn’t really get a response from Santana.  Trying once more, Brittany bites gently at the skin, laughing as Santana squirms in her arms, “San, don’t think that I don’t know that you’re still looking at the fridge over my shoulder.”

Feeling Santana’s laugh rumble through her body, Brittany braves the swat that lightly falls over her ass, the simple act of getting Santana to laugh making the reproach worth it.   Stepping back from Santana’s embrace, Brittany reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, pulling out the hastily scrawled grocery list that Santana had pressed into her hands earlier that afternoon.  Brittany turns the paper around to show Santana all the little check marks next to each item, using a game show sweep of her hand to indicate the still open fridge as well as the cabinets to the side, “I got everything you asked for on your list.”

Santana grins at Brittany, gesturing to the chocolate syrup and strawberries sitting on the bottom shelf, “I don’t remember putting strawberries and chocolate sauce on my list.”

“No?  I could have sworn it was on there,” Brittany laughs as she raises her hand holding the list, Santana’s body colliding with hers as she tries to grab it from her hand.  Using the moment to steal a kiss, Brittany drops her free hand to grip Santana’s waist, yanking her forward as she brushes her lips against Santana’s.  Brittany’s heart tumbles in her chest as Santana sinks into the kiss, her body melting into Brittany’s as the list flutters to the kitchen floor, forgotten as Brittany’s hands cup Santana’s jaw, deepening the kiss with a happy moan.  They kiss for a few minutes before Santana pulls away with a smile, wiping at the wetness across Brittany’s bottom lip before dropping her hands to Brittany’s waist and spinning her back in the direction of the bedroom.

“I’m never going to start dinner if we keep going.  And, since you so nicely offered to go pick up the groceries while I took the first shower _and_ you brought in the firewood, the least I can do is get dinner started while you go take your own shower.”

Picking her jacket up from the chair, Brittany drapes it over her bent elbow, pausing at the doorway to turn around and just watch Santana for a moment as she picks up the list from the floor and starts rummaging around the fridge, pulling open the cabinets and utensil drawers.  It takes a minute before Santana realizes that Brittany is watching her so it’s with an arched eyebrow that she straightens up and questions Brittany, “What?”

“Nothing.  I just like watching my little lady in the kitchen.  It’s hot.”

Snorting out a laugh, Santana walks over to Brittany and plants a playful kiss on her mouth, shooing her out of the kitchen as she calls out over her shoulder, “Take as long as you want, Britt.  I’ll get the fireplace started so it’ll be nice and warm in here for you when you get out of your shower.”

“You’re the best!!”

“I know.”

Listening as Brittany’s laugh quiets when she shuts the bathroom door, Santana’s grin falls from her face as she surveys the kitchen once more.  Turning on the kitchen light as the sunset fades into evening, Santana pulls her hair up into a ponytail and gets down to the business of making dinner for her and Brittany.

* * *

 

Thirty minutes later, Brittany finds herself walking back towards the kitchen, pausing for a moment to appreciate the fire blazing in the fireplace.  Slipping a pair of socks onto her feet, she tucks the pair that she brought for Santana into the pocket of her jogging pants, smiling at the thought of Santana laughing over the little ducks making up the pattern of the socks.  Detouring to the front of the cabin to make sure she locked the door when she came in before, Brittany leans over and pulls one of the curtains back, grinning widely as she catches sight of a light dusting of snowflakes falling from the sky.  Hurrying into the kitchen to see if Santana has noticed that it’s snowing, Brittany is brought up short by the enticing smells greeting her in the kitchen.

Some sort of delicious pasta dish is sitting on the table, a bowl of salad off to the side next to an open bottle of wine.  Looking at the dishes and silverware set up for her and Santana, Brittany notices that Santana even has a tapered candle set up in the middle of the table, its light casting flickering shadows against the plates.  While her stomach growls in appreciation, Brittany goes and stands behind one of the chairs, resting both hands across the back of it while she clears her throat to get Santana’s attention.  Straightening up from the oven, Santana shuts the door and turns around as Brittany sweeps one of her hands forward, indicating the spread of food on the table, “Am I going to have to tip you after this?”

Rolling her eyes playfully, Santana puts the tray of toasted bread on top of the stovetop, turning the oven off as she scrapes the bread onto a plate and carries it over to the table.  Putting the plate down, Santana walks over to where Brittany is standing and guides her away from the table as she pulls her chair out, waiting until Brittany smiles and goes to sit down, laughing as Santana pushes her chair in, grabbing a napkin and placing it over Brittany’s lap.  Kissing Brittany’s forehead, Santana pokes her shoulder as she goes to sit across the table from Brittany, spreading her own napkin across her lap as she grins at Brittany, “You can tip me all you want after this, baby.”

Giggling, Brittany reaches out and grabs the bottle of wine, pouring her and Santana each a glass as Santana sets about to serve them each a plate of pasta.  Setting the wine glass in front of Santana, Brittany accepts her bowl of salad with a smirk, letting her fingers brush over Santana’s as she waggles her eyebrows, “Oh yeah?  I promise your gratuity will be very gratuitous.”

Santana laughs at that, picking up her wine glass and holding it up for a toast as she rests her bare feet against Brittany’s sock-clad ones under the table, “To your roommate Amy for letting us come to her family’s cabin for the weekend.  Here’s hoping it’s been thoroughly sanitized since the last time she and her boyfriend were here.”

“Ew, San.”

“I’m just saying.”

Brittany pulls her wine glass away before Santana can tap her glass against it, meeting Santana’s quizzical look with a wide smile, resting her elbow on the edge of the table and leaning closer as she gives her own toast, “To another weekend of no classes and no late night shifts where the only tips you’ll be getting are the ones I give you.”

“Wanky."

Clinking her glass against Santana’s, Brittany grins at her over the rim of her glass, taking a small sip of the wine before reaching across the table to hold Santana’s hand, Brittany’s voice soft as she gestures to the food on the table, “Thanks again for making dinner, honey.”

“You’re welcome, Britt.  Now dig in before it gets cold.”

Long minutes pass as they engage in the simple ritual of sharing a meal and sharing conversation.  Letting themselves get reacquainted with the nuances of their everyday lives outside of the daily phone calls and texts.  Sharing funny stories about roommates and sharing teasing looks every time they catch each others eyes as loving words pass through lips as easily as the pasta and bites of warm bread.  Content to simply be with each other, dinner is an easy affair between Brittany and Santana.  Letting their fingertips caress each other as bowls and plates are passed between them, unspoken messages moving from nerve endings to nerve endings, transmitting along flesh and bone, before settling in to simmer behind eyes that are finding each other more and more frequently as dinner begins to wind down.

Entwining her fingers with Santana’s, Brittany raises them to her lips, gently kissing each tip, letting her tongue dart out to lick at the drop of marinara sauce still clinging to the edge of Santana’s thumb.  Pulling it gently into her mouth, Brittany plays her tongue along its length, puckering her lips as she places a final kiss at the juncture where thumb meets palm, before releasing Santana’s hand.

“Thank you for dinner, San.  Everything was delicious,” Brittany smiles in appreciation, patting her belly good-naturedly as Santana leans back with a contented sigh.  Rising and collecting hers and Santana’s plates, Brittany smiles at Santana before walking the few steps to the sink, placing the dishes down into the sink as she looks over her shoulder at Santana, “Why don’t you go relax in the living room while I clean up?  It seems only fair since you made dinner.”

Reaching for the knobs to turn the faucet on, Brittany jolts as she feels warm hands circle her waist and guide her away from the sink and closer to the countertop.  Gasping softly as Santana presses her body along Brittany’s back, Brittany is caught off guard as she feels those same feet that she was admiring earlier begin to push along her insteps, slowly spreading her legs.  Feeling the warmth start to ignite low in her belly, Brittany can only close her eyes and spread her palms along the countertop as she feels Santana’s lips caress the ridge of her ear, “I thought you were going to give me a tip?”

Pushing back slightly into Santana, Brittany tries to keep her voice neutral as she answers her, “Me doing the dishes _is_ your tip.”

Keeping her left hand resting on Brittany’s hip, Santana slides her right hand around Brittany’s waist, pausing as she encounters a slight bulge in the pocket of her jogging pants.  Patting the pocket playfully, Santana keeps her lips against Brittany’s ear as she questions her, “Wait…is _this_ actually my tip?”

On a soft laugh, Brittany reaches down and pulls the pair of socks from her pocket, holding them up for Santana to look at as she reaches out to grab them, “These are the socks I was supposed to give you before dinner so your feet didn’t get cold.  I got distracted by the food.”

Gently grabbing the socks from Brittany’s hand, Santana places a kiss against her shoulder with a murmured _thanks, baby_ as she turns slightly and tosses the socks onto the opposite counter.  Placing her hand against the waistband of Brittany’s jogging pants, Santana slowly starts to slide her fingers under the material, both of them breathing out as Santana’s fingers graze over the soft cotton of Brittany’s underwear.  Pressing her breasts against Brittany’s back, Santana reaches up with her free hand to pull Brittany’s blonde hair to the side, running her cheek along the smooth skin at the nape of Brittany’s neck, nuzzling the fine hairs there and kissing the slight protrusions of vertebrae running along the column of Brittany’s neck.  Distracting Brittany with feather-light kisses, Santana cups her hand around Brittany’s warm center, slowly moving her fingertips in tight circles as Brittany’s fingers spread out, her thumbs gripping the edge of the countertop.  Placing a kiss against the skin below Brittany’s ear, Santana brings her free hand down to tug on the waistband of Brittany’s jogging pants, pulling her other hand out to grab onto the material as she whispers in Brittany’s ear, “Maybe my tip is in here.  Do you think I should check?”

Accepting Brittany’s throaty groan as a yes, Santana slides the jogging pants down Brittany’s legs, helping her step out of them as Santana turns around and tosses them over the back of the chair, both of them giggling as Santana removes Brittany’s socks as well.  Standing back up and bringing her left hand down to run her fingernails slowly along the smooth skin of Brittany’s inner thigh, Santana feels her own arousal increasing as her right hand resumes its slow stroking over the soft cotton covering Brittany’s center, Brittany’s hips arching back as Santana presses just a little bit harder with her fingertips.

Brittany is having a hard time knowing which hand to focus on, as each one is steadily driving her crazy with want.  Standing there, in just a gray t-shirt and white cotton panties, legs spread with Santana’s hands teasing her, Brittany’s breathing starts to increase.  Spreading her feet a little wider, Brittany arches her back slightly, trying to draw more contact between Santana’s fingers and the wet ache she is creating with each tight pass of her fingertips.  As Santana shifts closer behind her, Brittany lets her head fall back, her eyes closing on a moan as she feels her wetness starting to seep through her underwear, brushing against Santana’s fingers.  Faintly hearing an answering moan behind her, Brittany opens her eyes and turns her head slightly, meeting Santana’s gaze as she slides her left hand over Brittany’s thigh to grip tight at her waist.  Licking her lips, Brittany starts to move her hips, timing it so that Santana’s fingers move against her in a steadily increasing rhythm. Brittany moves her hand a little further along the countertop gaining more leverage as she feels Santana’s hard nipples brushing against her back, one hand leaving the countertop to cover the one Santana has between Brittany’s legs, silently commanding her to push a little harder.

Santana has to admit that it is sexy as hell having Brittany’s hand covering hers, the feel of Brittany’s fingers against her own as Santana moves against the wetness starting to soak through the front of Brittany’s underwear is making Santana’s own arousal pulse hard between her legs.  Widening her stance, Santana groans as Brittany’s ass starts to grind against her center, the wetness at her fingertips increasing as Brittany presses down a little harder.  Santana had intended to just tease Brittany a little, to keep playing along with her joke about getting a tip for cooking dinner but at the feel of Brittany’s swollen lips against her fingers, all Santana can think about is bringing Brittany pleasure.  Santana can feel her own wetness pooling between her thighs and curling her hips, she tries to find a little bit of relief against her aching clit.  As Brittany’s chin falls towards her chest, her deep moan prompts Santana to reach forward across Brittany’s hand resting on the countertop, gripping her wrist as Santana drops her forehead between Brittany’s shoulder blades, moaning out her own pleasure as the material of her jogging pants drags across her clit.  Turning her head to rest her cheek against Brittany’s shoulders, Santana’s eyelashes flutter as Brittany suddenly holds Santana’s fingers still, curling her hips faster and harder against the pressure as Brittany’s breathy voice reaches Santana’s ears, “Oh, fuck…I’m gonna come.”

With heavy moans and halting breaths, Brittany feels her clit pulse and flutter, tightening against Santana’s fingertips as her orgasm starts to build inside of her.  Feeling Santana’s quick warm breaths against her back, Brittany closes her eyes and concentrates on the pressure between her legs, coming hard in a sudden rush as she feels Santana moan against her t-shirt.  Pushing firmly with her own hand against Santana’s, Brittany slides her hand on the countertop in front of her, holding Santana to her as she trembles through her orgasm, struggling to catch her breath as her hips continue to roll gently against Santana’s fingers.  Inhaling deeply, Brittany turns her head, accepting Santana’s kiss to her cheek as Brittany smiles at her, “Jesus, San.  That was…I mean…I thought _I_ was the one giving _you_ a tip.”

Santana has to smile at the wavering note in Brittany’s voice, hearing the satisfaction but also knowing Brittany long enough to recognize the desire still roiling beneath the surface.  Gently sliding her hands across Brittany’s body until they reach the small of Brittany’s back, Santana runs her fingers along the muscles there, pushing Brittany’s gray t-shirt up over her shoulders, raising her arms as Santana removes the t-shirt and tosses it behind them.  Stepping back, Santana slips her thumbs beneath the waistband of Brittany’s underwear, slowly drawing them down her toned legs and following their progress until she is kneeling at Brittany’s feet.   Santana lifts each of Brittany’s feet until her underwear joins the t-shirt on the floor, groaning deeply at the sight before her. Reaching up, Santana turns Brittany’s hips until she is facing her, Brittany’s hands falling to the edge of the countertop once more.  Without warning, Santana leans forward, pressing her thumbs against Brittany’s wet sex and running her tongue, deep and slow, in one long stroke as she pushes up from her kneeling position to stand before Brittany once more.  Seizing Brittany’s lips in a rough kiss, Santana pulls at Brittany’s hands, encouraging Brittany to remove her white t-shirt, anxious to feel Brittany’s skin against her own.

Feeling those hands guiding her own to remove Santana’s shirt, Brittany deepens the kiss, stopping only when the t-shirt needs to be pulled over Santana’s head.  As soon as Santana’s t-shirt is discarded, Brittany reaches down, grasping Santana’s wrists in each of her hands.  Smirking at her, Brittany brings their joined hands behind Santana’s back, pressing their breasts together as Brittany begins a thorough seduction of Santana’s mouth.  Acutely aware of being the only one standing naked in the kitchen, Brittany concentrates on distracting Santana with kisses, moaning at the taste of herself on Santana’s tongue as it slides across her own.  Releasing Santana’s wrists to grab the top of her jogging pants, Brittany trails her lips down over Santana’s chin, nipping at her jaw line as she starts to pull down on the waistband.  So lost is she in the taste of Santana’s clean skin, that Brittany is unprepared for Santana’s sudden movement.

Stepping back abruptly, Santana breaks contact with Brittany, reaching back to gently take Brittany’s hands in her own and place them palms down across the countertop once again.  Moving a little further back, Santana takes a hold of her jogging pants and slowly starts to pull them down, never looking away from Brittany’s eyes as she speaks to her, “I want you up on that counter.”

Seeing the desire spark in Brittany’s face, translating into delicately flared nostrils and heavy lidded eyes, Santana continues her post-dinner seduction with a smirk, “The longer it takes for you, the longer it takes for me.”  Santana’s husky voice travels straight to Brittany’s center as Santana lets the waistband snap back against her hips to emphasize her point.

Using her thumbs to hold the front of her jogging pants down, Santana lets Brittany see that underneath the jogging pants is just bare skin, Santana’s underwear still residing in one of the dresser drawers in the bedroom.  Exhaling loudly, Santana can’t control the tremor that runs through her as she watches Brittany push up with ease, her smooth shoulder muscles bunching and relaxing as she comes to rest on top of the counter.

“Good girl.” Rewarding Brittany by sliding the jogging pants a little further down, exposing the slope of her hipbones to Brittany’s hungry gaze, Santana swallows hard as Brittany takes a deep breath, her breasts rising and falling enticingly.   Feeling her heart pound harder as she hears Brittany’s moan, Santana’s gaze drifts across Brittany’s face, her eyes transfixed on Brittany's mouth as she brings just the tip of her tongue out to wet her bottom lip. 

Clearing her throat, Santana continues to remove her jogging pants, looking up to meet Brittany’s blue eyes as she continues to give Brittany commands, “Move back and spread your legs for me, Britt.”

As Brittany hurries to obey Santana’s request, Santana lets the jogging pants drop to the floor, her hands falling to her side.  Standing there for a moment, Santana feels her heart start to race, her insides clenching hard as she watches Brittany settle her body against the counter.  With her hands supporting her weight behind her, back arched presenting hard nipples begging for attention, and those finely muscled legs spread, knees bent and resting over the edge of the counter, Brittany is the sexiest thing that Santana ever laid her eyes upon.

Pushing her jogging pants aside with one foot, Santana steps over to the fridge briefly, pulling the door open and reaching in to grab the bowl of strawberries, already washed and ready for them to eat.  Letting the door close, Santana places the bowl off to the side, smirking at Brittany to get her attention, hiding the fact that one of the strawberries is now hidden in her hand behind her back.  Confidently stepping forward until she is flush against Brittany’s warm inner thighs, Santana rests her free hand above Brittany’s knee, her smirk still firmly in place as Brittany watches her.

Playing along, Brittany questions Santana, working through the words even as she struggles to concentrate with the nearness of Santana’s body wreaking havoc with her senses, “What are you hiding behind your back, sneaky?”

So focused is she on the heated look Santana is giving her before she leans in for a quick kiss, Brittany doesn’t have time to register Santana’s other hand coming from behind her back to slide along her inner thigh.  Only when the coolness of one of the strawberries touches the heat of her center does Brittany’s body respond properly to what is happening.

Letting her head drop forward to watch as Santana slowly strokes her with the cool, red fruit, Brittany can feel her clit pulse, her nipples hardening in pleasure as her stomach clenches hard at Santana’s movements. Gasping out a moan, Brittany is helpless to do anything but spread her legs wider, reaching one hand forward to tangle in Santana’s ponytail, tightening her fingers as she watches Santana raise the strawberry to her mouth.  Pursing her lips in reflex, Brittany’s chest constricts as Santana runs the tip of the strawberry, lightly glinting with some of Brittany’s wetness, along her lips before sliding the fruit into her mouth, groaning at the taste. 

Chewing slowly, Santana tosses the stem carelessly into the sink next to them, leaning forward to brace her hands on either side of Brittany’s thighs.  Tilting her head slightly, she runs her tongue along the edge of Brittany’s bottom lip, closing her lips and sucking gently.  As Santana closes her mouth to swallow the last little bit of strawberry, she brings her hands up to rub her thumbs slowly against Brittany’s stiff nipples, glancing down at the wetness apparent between Brittany’s legs.

Arching her eyebrow, Santana looks up to find Brittany watching her intently, her blue eyes glancing down to Santana’s mouth to watch as Santana speaks to her, “You want some?”

Brittany can only clench her jaw as a groan is torn from her chest at Santana’s dirty question.  Arching her back further as she presses her breasts into Santana’s hands, Brittany can barely breathe out her answer, “Please.”

Dropping one hand away from Brittany’s nipples, Santana brings the tips of two fingers to play along Brittany’s wetness, rubbing lightly on her clit as she keeps her gaze focused on her fingers, “Yeah?”

“Baby, please…”

Santana moves her fingers a little lower, pushing in slowly and groaning as she feels her fingertips enveloped in wet heat.  Reaching up, Santana grabs the back of Brittany’s neck with her free hand, drawing her into a slow kiss, maintaining the stillness of her fingers as she tastes Brittany’s mouth.  Breaking free just as quickly as she had grabbed Brittany, Santana moves her fingers in deeper, sliding back out slowly and pushing in again, getting deeper with each pass.  Finally looking up to meet Brittany’s eyes, Santana keeps the motion of her fingers going even as her own sex clenches at the look on Brittany’s face, Santana’s voice decidedly huskier than before, “Some of this?”

“God, San…yes,” Brittany whispers, unable to draw a deep breath as her stomach stays clenched, releasing only when Santana pulls her fingers out.  She can’t believe that she is naked on the countertop, her thighs spread wide as she accepts Santana’s slow thrusts and the only thing she can think about is that she wants more.  Watching as Santana smiles at her and leans over to pull the bowl of strawberries closer, the wetness of her fingers apparent in the light of the kitchen, Brittany moans under her breath at the thought of what Santana is going to do to her.

Moving back towards Brittany, Santana catches the intense look focused her way.  Pulling her hand away from the bowl, Santana cups Brittany’s face in her hands, smoothing her thumbs over perfect cheekbones as Brittany’s hands come to rest on her hips.

“Britt?”  Santana questions softly, noting with relief the small smile that pulls at the corner of Brittany’s lips.

Pulling Santana forward, Brittany brings their bodies closer and closes the distance between their lips.  Kissing Santana softly, Brittany answers her, deepening the kiss with each word, “S’okay.  I just love you.  So much.” 

Slowly reaching her hands up to take a hold of Santana’s, Brittany places one on her hip and guides the other between her legs, keeping eye contact as she begs Santana, “Touch me, Santana.  Please, I want you so…”  Unable to get any more than that out as Santana claims her lips again, fingers moving of their own accord now, stroking deep inside where Brittany aches the most.   Brittany drops her hands and hooks her fingers over the edge of the counter, pulling her hips closer to the fire Santana is creating between Brittany’s legs.

Santana for her part can’t reach deep enough, can’t kiss Brittany hard enough to convey all that she is feeling, overcome with the taste and feel of this beautiful girl against her.  Moaning into the kiss, Santana experiences an irrational moment of panic, wondering if she’ll ever be able to be close enough to Brittany, even like this.  However feeling Brittany move against her, feeling the passion with which Brittany is kissing her back, knowing that the wetness that is coating her fingers and Brittany’s thighs is just another expression of Brittany’s love for her, Santana feels something shift and settle within her.  If there is one thing Santana knows without question, it is how to love Brittany.

Groaning softly as Brittany caresses her mouth with that talented tongue, Santana slows the pace of her fingers, trying to get both hers and Brittany’s desire under control.  Gently pulling her mouth away from the kiss, Santana gazes intently into Brittany’s blue eyes and takes in the flushed cheeks and swollen lips, feeling the ache inside of her increase.  Placing one tender kiss against Brittany’s bottom lip, Santana slides her fingers up to press lightly against Brittany’s clit, keeping just enough pressure to keep her on the edge as she looks at her, “I love you, too.  And I want you too, so much.”

Santana reaches over and observes as Brittany’s eyes widen, comprehension dawning as she realizes where that hand is headed.  Answering Brittany’s smile with one of her own, Santana leans in and whispers against Brittany’s ear, “Let me show you…”

Taking the soft lobe of Brittany's ear into her warm mouth, Santana once again runs one of the strawberries along Brittany's skin.  Using its lingering cooler temperature to trace over already hard nipples, loving the feel of the goosebumps she see feel breaking out along Brittany’s arms, Santana slowly tracks the strawberry down over Brittany’s belly button.  Laughing as Brittany giggles at the ticklish sensation, Santana keeps moving the strawberry lower, her heart racing as she watches the playful expression on Brittany’s face turn to one of desire as Santana gently moves the fruit through Brittany’s wetness, letting the tips of her fingers brush against Brittany's clit with each pass of the strawberry.  When she is satisfied that she has teased both her and Brittany to their breaking points, Santana brings the wet fruit directly to the edge of Brittany’s lips.  Using her other hand to press lightly against the small of Brittany’s back, Santana turns the tip of the strawberry so that it is facing Brittany's mouth, her voice husky as her seduction of Brittany starts to take its own toll on her, “You still want some?”

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Santana slides the strawberry between Brittany's lips and watches, enraptured, as she greets Santana’s offering with her tongue.  Swirling her tongue around the tip, Brittany never takes her eyes off of Santana as she draws the strawberry into her mouth, severing it from its stem with a smile.  Daring Santana to look away, Brittany begins to chew, purposely letting the juices coat the closed line of her lips.  Brittany licks her lips once before cupping the base of Santana’s head, pulling her in for a frenzied kiss as she passes the fruit and her wetness between them.  Groaning as Santana’s breasts push against her own, Brittany can feel Santana’s desire in the desperation behind her kiss.  Brittany knows Santana’s body almost as well, if not better, than she knows her own and she knows that should she reach her long fingers down between them, she'd find Santana wet and open, her clit begging for attention.  As much as she wants Santana to touch her again, the temptation of making Santana come is too much for Brittany.  Using the kisses as a distraction, Brittany eases herself closer to the edge of the counter, groaning deep into the kiss as she feels Santana’s hand pulling tighter on her lower back.  Sliding her fingers across the back of Santana’s neck, to trail her fingers across Santana’s breasts, Brittany lowers her hands to the countertop, releasing Santana’s mouth from her kiss.

"Step back," Brittany commands softly, running her feet lightly against Santana’s legs.  She can see the hesitation in Santana's brown eyes, as her body wars between wanting to continue to touch Brittany and needing Brittany to touch her.  Brittany lets her body make the decision for both of them as she eases herself down off the counter and comes up flush against Santana’s body, relying on Santana’s hands to steady her as her shaky legs find purchase on the kitchen floor.  Wrapping one arm across the back of Santana’s shoulders and using the other to guide her hips, Brittany speaks softly in Santana’s ear, her smooth voice roughened by desire, “Come here.”

Kissing the down the side of Santana’ neck, Brittany keeps her lips pressed there as she navigates Santana’s body until she is standing once again in front of her chair.  Pulling away from her, Brittany steps around Santana and eases her lean frame onto the wooden chair, her breath catching as her wetness comes into contact with the smooth surface.  Leaning back, Brittany rests her palms along her thighs, patting her fingers against her legs playfully and fixing Santana with a sly look as she speaks to her, "Come. Here."

Santana feels powerless to do anything but submit to the sensual promises carried in the tone of Brittany's voice.  Moving forward, she inhales deeply as Brittany brings her strong hands to Santana’s waist, guiding her until she can straddle Brittany’s warm thighs.  With her weight supported easily by the muscles she can feel flexing beneath her, Santana has the delicious sensation of being completely at Brittany’s mercy.  Shifting until she is settled comfortably against Brittany, Santana plants her feet against the heavy wooden rungs of the chair, flushing suddenly as she realizes the potential benefits of this leverage.

Watching as the blush spreads across Santana's cheeks, Brittany notices Santana drop her gaze and look away briefly, an almost shy smile caressing the corners of her full mouth.  Taking her time as she let her thumbs start to trace small circles along Santana's inner thighs, Brittany waits for Santana to look at her again.  After a few seconds, Brittany gently squeezes the muscles beneath her fingers, sweeping her thumbs ever closer to Santana's wet sex.  This gets Santana’s attention as she instinctively brings her gaze back to Brittany’s, gripping Brittany’s forearms as she keeps moving her hands forward,  Brittany’s voice quiet as she teases her, “Are you getting shy on me now, San?"

Gasping as Brittany finally brings her thumbs to run along the outside of Santana’s sex, Santana is unable to break Brittany’s heated stare, shaking her head no in response to Brittany’s question.  Santana’s hands slide over Brittany’s forearms, her thumbs digging lightly into Brittany’s elbows as Brittany moans at the first touch of Santana’s wetness.

"No?" Sliding her thumbs closer together and resting the tips of her fingers along the soft outline of Santana's stomach muscles, Brittany slowly spreads Santana’s wet, swollen lips, barely exposing her most sensitive bundle of nerves.  Dipping her thumbs lower, Brittany has to stifle a groan as they are instantly bathed in Santana’s wetness, taking a deep breath as she moves them painstakingly slow against Santana's clit.  Pausing for a moment as Santana relinquishes her hold on Brittany’s forearms.  Resting her hands along Brittany’s neck and stroking the underside of her jaw, Santana once again shakes her head no.

"Are you sure?"

"Ye…yes.”

Sucking air through her teeth, Brittany feels Santana’s wetness starting to spread to the webbing between her thumb and forefinger.  Raising her left hand to her mouth, Brittany keeps up the teasing strokes with her right, slowly licking the wetness from her palm, trailing her tongue along her thumb as she continues to tease Santana, “Then why are you blushing, baby?"

"Because…because," Santana groans her half answer, finding it harder and harder to formulate thoughts as Brittany moves the fingers of her right hand and holds them lightly against Santana’s center, softly pushing two fingers in to the first knuckle.

"Because?"  Brittany echoes, using her left hand to pull Santana closer to her, faces only inches apart.  Pushing in deeper, Brittany keeps her hand still, using just the very tips of her fingers to flick rhythmically against Santana's inner walls, her own sex clenching as Santana’s deep breath makes their breasts rub together.

"I want…I...please, Brittany.  Because…" Santana exhales, resting her forehead against Brittany’s as she looks down at those parted lips so close to her own.  Sliding her hands down from Brittany’s neck to grab the back of the chair, Santana pushes up on her toes a bit, tipping her hips towards Brittany's fingers and pulling them deeper inside.

"Because you want _this_ ," Curling her fingers for emphasis, Brittany slowly kisses Santana’s bottom lip, pulling back to watch Santana’s face as she continues to move her fingers.

"Brittany…"

"Tell me," Surprising Santana, Brittany suddenly withdraws her fingers, holding the stillness of the moment briefly before pushing through Santana's wetness to drive into her again.  Using her other hand to support the small of Santana’s back, Brittany continues to slowly thrust her strong fingers inside of Santana, brushing her thumb intermittently against her clit as she watches Santana’s face.

"I want…"

"Tell me."

Gripping the back of the chair even harder, Santana lifts her body, thigh muscles flexing gracefully as she pushes off the rungs of the chair with her feet.  Holding herself slightly above Brittany’s thighs for a moment, Santana looks down and holds Brittany’s gaze, taking satisfaction in the desire she can feel coming off of Brittany in waves.

"I want _this_." And with that, Santana slowly lowers herself down onto Brittany's fingers, moaning loudly as she feels Brittany fill her.  Pushing up again, Santana arches her back, brushing the soft skin of her breasts against Brittany as she lowers herself again, pulling Brittany deep inside of her.  Building a steady rhythm, grunting a bit each time those long fingers curl against her, Santana rocks her body against Brittany, shivering as the sound of her wetness reaches her ears.

Brittany feels her own wetness seeping from inside of her, tremors fluttering across her lower belly as she watches Santana ride her fingers.  Both love and desire flare hot and strong inside of Brittany, reducing her to shaky breaths and answering groans, all pretense of seduction gone as Brittany gets caught up in watching Santana move.  Bringing her other hand around to touch Santana, Brittany presses her thumb firmly against Santana’s clit, letting Santana dictate the pace and pressure as she continues to move her hips against Brittany’s fingers.  Watching as Santana takes her pleasure, feeling Santana tighten around her fingers as she gets closer and closer to coming, Brittany’s senses are inundated with the way Santana smells and sounds, clenching her jaw hard as small waves of pleasure pulse between her own legs, the small orgasm catching Brittany off guard.

Santana feels her thighs straining to maintain the pace that her body is dictating, sweat starting to break out across her skin as she works herself against Brittany’s hands.  Glancing down, Santana watches as Brittany’s fingers disappear in between her legs, Brittany’s thumb rubbing against where she is most sensitive, the combined sight stealing Santana’s ability to breathe.  Hearing the familiar groan that signals Brittany’s orgasm, Santana’s chest constricts even further, her stomach trembling in preparation for her own impending release.

Letting go of the back of the chair, Santana scrapes her fingers along Brittany’s head, grasping her long blonde hair and pulling Brittany in for a desperate kiss, groaning at the first touch of their tongues.  The urgent desire to be filled by Brittany, to be claimed by her, sweeps through Santana’s body and finally pulls the orgasm from deep inside her.  Moving her hips in jerky motions, breaking off the kiss to pull Brittany tight against her body, Santana lets her orgasm race through her, her fingers digging into Brittany’s shoulders as her breath cuts off on a moan.  Pressing her lips to Brittany’s temple as the aftershocks pulse inside of her, Santana exhales deeply while Brittany starts to slow the thrust of her fingers, easing Santana down before pulling out all together.

Curving her hands over Santana’s back, Brittany cradles Santana against her, shifting slightly so they are pressed together from thigh to chest.  Running her fingers along Santana’s spine, mingling sweat and wetness, Brittany places soft kisses against the cheek resting near her mouth, whispering sweet, loving words as Santana caresses her shoulders.  Brittany nuzzles the side of Santana’s neck, smiling as she feels her turn and rest her head against Brittany’s shoulder, laughing as Santana’s amused voice reaches her ears, “That was my favorite tip ever.  Definitely over 20 percent.”

“I don’t know, San.  You kinda tipped yourself with that one,” Brittany giggles as Santana turns her face into Brittany’s neck, playfully groaning out in embarrassment.  Rubbing her hands soothingly across Santana’s back, Brittany leans back in the chair, smiling as Santana sits up straighter and looks at her.  Nodding her head towards the fridge, Brittany smirks at Santana, loving the flushed look of satisfaction on Santana’s face, “We still have the chocolate sauce, you know.”

“Mmm, good point.”

“And dinner was really, really good.”

“It was, if I do say so myself.”

“But we sort of skipped right over dessert.”

Santana grins at Brittany, teasingly dropping her hand to brush her fingers low against Brittany’s stomach as she counters her statement, “Well, we did get to taste the strawberries at least.”

Brittany feels her cheeks warm at the memory, grabbing Santana’s wandering hand, kissing the back of it as Santana pouts and placing it against her chest as she leans closer to Santana, “I was really looking forward to the chocolate sauce though.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup.”

“I think that can be arranged, Britt.  Here?”

Thinking about the snow falling outside, Brittany listens for a moment and grins as the crackling and popping of the fireplace gives her an idea.  Lifting her hand to point towards the living room, Brittany kisses Santana tenderly as she lowers her voice, enjoying the way Santana’s body shivers at the tone, “There.”


End file.
